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Can’t see my panties now, can you, Kev?
I scoff to myself and lift my drink to my lips, needing another hit of what Oli aptly named Devil’s Juice. She’s not wrong. I swear, she had to have emptied the entire flask in my tumbler. At first, I was pacing myself, not wanting to be obviously drunk around Isaac.
But now…
Now I need it.
Badly.
“So,” Kevin begins, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “How has your summer been?”
I release a puff of air that’s somewhere between a scoff and an irritated grunt before taking another drink. A bigger one.
“Just peachy.” I give him a sidelong look, catching his gaze riveted to my exposed calves. “Yours?” My question is blunt—slightly too loud.
I expect his eyes to be guilty when they snap up to meet mine, but they aren’t, and he doesn’t.
Nope.
Instead, the quiet, bashful nerd that loves Jesus more than air, slowly lets his wandering gaze travel up the length of my body, doing nothing to disguise the obvious desire he’s feeling.
He wants me. Is that why he came here?
I take in his appearance, really take him in. Maybe for the first time.
Kevin’s not tall. Around five-foot-eight on a good day, not too thin or thick. Definitely not muscular. He’s just—average.
His brown hair is greasy and messy. Not artfully, either. Just messy as it hangs over his ears and forehead in a grown out semi-bowl cut. He definitely needs to cut it. Soon.
He wears dark-framed, rectangular glasses that complement his brown eyes. His face is clear from stubble—actually, there’s not even a slight shadow dimming his jaw, and if I had to guess, I’d say he doesn’t shave. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
He does have pretty eyelashes, though.
Like really pretty.
I’m jealous.
I giggle again at the wayward direction of my thoughts and sloppily tug the straw into my mouth. A pathetic whimper escapes me when I realize my cup is empty.
My lower lip rolls out in a pout, and suddenly, this waterside fiesta is no longer entertaining.
Kevin chuckles, tipping my lip with the crook of his fist. Not in a sexy way, either. More like a fatherly aw shucks, kind of thing.
“You’re so cute,” he mumbles, biting his lip. His Adam's apple bobs. “Pretty, actually.”
“Umm,” I mumble, thoroughly confused. “Thanks?” The word comes out as a question, but I don’t think he notices or cares. “You’re—” I hold my breath as I search for the right word. “Nice.”
It seems to be enough for him, because he grins his thanks at me, like I’ve just given him the best compliment he’s ever received. It might be the only compliment he’s ever received.
Sad.
“I’ve never done this before,” he rushes out. My brows knit together as he scoots closer to me, bunching the blanket slightly.
“Done what?”
The words barely leave my mouth before his lips are on mine in a sloppy, wet kiss. I’m too stunned to react. My body just freezes.
